The Right Touch
by the ramblin rose
Summary: Caryl, AU. Oneshot. Carol is embarking on a new career and Daryl is hesitant to let her use him for practice. She knows exactly what it will take to win him over, though. Rated for sexual situations and language.


**AN: This is in response to a request from therealsonia. It's just a fun little oneshot and isn't meant to be taken too seriously.**

 **It's smutty, but it's my kind of smutty. If you're looking for the hardcore, detailed smut, I'm sure you can find that elsewhere.**

 **I own nothing from the Walking Dead.**

 **I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!**

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"Come on, Daryl," Carol insisted. "I have to practice. And if I don't practice? I'll never get any better."

"I didn't say you couldn't practice," Daryl said. "Said you could practice on somebody else."

Carol frowned at him.

"And who would you want me to practice on?" Carol asked.

He shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't give a damn," Daryl said. "Practice on Andrea. She likes that kinda thing."

"It would be a lot better if I didn't have to leave home every time I wanted to practice," Carol said. "Besides—I have to strengthen my hands. Get them used to the repetitive and pressured actions."

Daryl snorted and took a sip from the beer he was nursing as he leaned against the kitchen counter.

"In that case? The only damn person I want'cha practicing on is Andrea," Daryl said. "Don't want you practicing no—repeated and pressured actions on nobody else. And do it over here. Or Merle'll be tryin' to video tape that shit and sell it online."

Carol pursed her lips at Daryl. She was going to have to change her strategy if she was going to win him over. She knew that. It was always clear, in any discussion with Daryl, where the exact moment was when she lost him. She considered her new approach for a moment and then she nodded her head at him.

"Fine," Carol said. "You're right. I should practice on someone else."

"Glad you see it my way," Daryl said.

"As long as you tell me what it is that—makes you not want me to practice on you," Carol said.

"Why the hell does it matter?" Daryl asked.

"Research," Carol said. "If I'm going to really try to do this for a living? I need to know what it is that might be alienating my potential clientele. Why would a man like Daryl Dixon not want to come in for a massage from me?" Daryl snorted again and shook his head. "I'm serious, Daryl," Carol urged. "It's important for my business to understand my clients. If someone like you wouldn't feel comfortable coming in for a massage, then I need to think about what I could do to—to alleviate any of their concerns."

"That's chick stuff," Daryl said.

"Massages are chick stuff?" Carol asked. Daryl nodded his head.

"You don't see no men gettin' buck ass naked to get rubbed on," Daryl said. "And there's good damn reason for that shit too."

"What are those reasons?" Carol asked. "Because I'm pretty sure that we didn't cover them in our book and—you could really be on to something. You could really revolutionize the massage industry with your insights."

Daryl laughed.

"Now you're jerkin' me around," he said, somewhat pointing at Carol with the beer bottle.

Carol playfully crossed her finger across her chest.

"Cross my heart," Carol said. "I want to know why a man like you wouldn't want a woman like me giving you a massage."

"First off it's too damn expensive," Daryl said. "Ain't no man in his right mind gonna pay what the hell y'all are askin' for that shit. Work as damn hard as we do for our money? Hell—I can hear Merle now. Gonna pay some woman that damn much money for an hour of her time, there's a helluva lot more'n some rubbing going on. And if it's just rubbin'? It ain't what you're sellin'. Or—better not be."

Carol swallowed her laughter and shook her head at Daryl.

"These are just honest to goodness massages," Carol said. "But you make a valid point. So let's say we offer discounts. Some—incentives to get people in the door to give it a try. First visit is fifty percent off. Say the price isn't an issue. Then what's your argument?"

Daryl shrugged his shoulders.

"Don't no man wanna get slathered down in that flowery smellin' shit you got," Daryl said.

"It's aromatherapy," Carol said. "It relaxes you even more than the massage itself."

"Makes you smell like a woman," Daryl said. "Don't nobody wanna wear that shit the whole day."

"So we look for neutral smelling oils and lotions for the clients why might prefer it," Carol ceded. "This is good stuff. Really. Keep going."

"Well—you don't want some king-kong ass fucker rubbin' on you," Daryl said, "'cause it's weird. But—if you got some woman you liked? And she's—all up on ya? Rubbin' on ya?" He shrugged his shoulders. "It's bound to cause some problems that you just can't hide."

Carol swallowed and did her best to look concerned instead of amused.

"I see," Carol said. "But you have to realize that—we're professionals. Or we will be by the time we open a place. And most of us would understand about biology. If someone were to become—aroused? I don't think that anyone would call attention to it. In fact? We're instructed to simply respond based on the behavior of the client. If it's just a reaction? It's natural. He's relaxed. We're doing a good job. And we don't want to make him uncomfortable and mess up that relaxation. It's only if he's suggesting something more that it's a problem."

"It'd be fuckin' mortifying is what it'd be," Daryl said.

"Listen," Carol said with a sigh. "You say your back hurts. I see you stretching it. Trying to stretch it. Don't you think it might benefit you to have me just try to get you some relief?" Daryl's expression changed a little. Carol didn't know if it was over the discussion of a possible hard on or if it was the fact that he was seriously considering whether or not he might want a little help relaxing tight back muscles. "Daryl—I'm talking about here. Right now. Me in my pajamas and us in our bedroom. I've seen you get hard before. It's not going to shock me."

"You don't say nothin' about this to Merle?" Daryl asked.

Carol and Andrea had been taking the classes together for some time. They had plans—whether or not they succeeded—to open a massage parlor. They'd already picked out a place they hoped to buy, whether or not their shopping for locations was premature, and they had pretty big dreams of turning the career into something that let them take control of their lives and their jobs. Something that would get them out of the regular nine to five of working for sometimes insufferable bosses.

"You don't think Merle's been reaping the benefits of these massages since we started?" Carol asked, crossing her arms across her chest. Daryl looked a little taken aback and Carol smirked at him. "Don't let him lie to you, Daryl. Massage Monday at their house quickly turned into Touch-Time Tuesday, Work-Out-The-Tension Wednesday, Thorough Thursday, and Fun-Time Friday. Andrea doesn't have the don't kiss and tell policy as completely ingrained in her as some people do."

"Merle wouldn't go for this shit," Daryl said.

"Except he does," Carol said. "But he doesn't have to know that you do. Just like you didn't know that he did until I just ratted him out for you."

Daryl hesitated a moment. He took in every detail of their kitchen like he was memorizing it. Like he might never see it again and like he hadn't seen it every day for the past six years. He didn't make eye contact with Carol when he spoke again.

"If it's for your class and all," Daryl said. "Help you out..."

"It would help me out immensely," Carol said, being sure to swallow down her smile so that Daryl wouldn't back out just because she was gloating over her victory. "Let's go to the bedroom? I'll set the mood while you undress?"

Daryl blushed like he hadn't been naked in her presence for years.

"Fine," Daryl said. "But you don't say shit to nobody. Not even big-mouth Andrea."

"My lips are sealed," Carol assured him.

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Daryl would have never admitted that he enjoyed the massage, but Carol could feel his muscles relaxing as she worked them beneath her hands. He gave her massages sometimes and, although clumsy, they inevitably made her feel better. The combination of the touch of his skin and the pressure on her muscles always relaxed her, even if Daryl's form and technique might leave something to be desired.

Though Carol would have normally gone through the full circuit of massage for practice, she found that she was more interested in focusing on the areas where Daryl seemed to need it the most—and where he seemed to appreciate it the most. He let out muffled groans—that he probably never intended for her to hear—whenever she reached a spot that was particularly bothersome to him, and Carol remembered those spots and continued to return to them.

When her hands were finally crying out to her that they couldn't go on any longer, Carol finished her massage and kissed Daryl between the shoulder blades. From his position, Daryl laughed.

"Hope that ain't part of the whole deal," Daryl said.

"Only for my most special client," Carol assured him. "Roll over."

Daryl groaned at her, probably not wanting to use his muscles at all for a moment, but he obeyed her command. Carol moved enough to give him room and he shifted his body so that he was belly up in front of her, his eyes almost closed like he couldn't stand to keep them open.

Carol licked her lips.

"You—didn't have quite the reaction that you were worried about," Carol said.

"Mmm?" Daryl hummed, not bothering to open his eyes.

"You were worried about being too excited," Carol said. "You're not all the way there."

"Been there an' lost it more'n once," Daryl said. "Fuck if I'd do that shit when I didn't know you. I'm sorry—and I hope it don't hurt your business, but it still wouldn't be my idea to do that shit with a total fucking stranger."

"But I'm not a stranger," Carol said. "There's a little bonus I can offer. To your massage. A different _technique_ if you're interested. It's sort of a whole body relaxation technique."

Daryl laughed to himself, his eyes still closed.

"You got me here," Daryl said. "Do whatever the hell you want."

"You said it," Carol responded.

She took him into her hands and gently stroked him, urging him to grow entirely hard. She heard Daryl laugh, quietly, as he realized what she was doing, but there was no protest. In fact, he simply rearranged himself a little to get more comfortable. Carol took him into her mouth and traced the length of him with her tongue. He shivered in response and she repeated the action, letting both her hands join her in teasing him, changing her pressure on him to drive his interest forward. She took her time, slowly running her own learned circuit of the movements and actions that Daryl found enjoyable. And for a few moments, he lie there as relaxed and unmoving as he had been.

But then things started to grow a little more urgent. Without warning, Daryl bucked his hips at Carol, attempting to set his own pace for her. He requested more from her. He requested a faster speed to go with the more sensual touches that she'd been giving him. She took the hint from him and picked up the speed of the work that her mouth and hands were doing. His body, seemingly without his permission, continued to move to urge her on.

She'd done it enough that she knew the exact moment when Daryl was just about to his peak. She glanced at him to watch the change in his facial expression as he came and she continued her movements after he'd sunk back, panting, into the mattress. She didn't stop until she was sure that he had nothing left to give.

Quickly, she choked down the salty payment he'd given her for her services and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She only looked at Daryl when she heard him laugh quietly.

"You know you coulda just gone an' washed your mouth out," Daryl said, his eyes finally open and taking her in. "It don't never piss me off when you do."

"Honestly?" Carol responded, offering him a smile of her own. "I was too lazy to get off the bed."

Daryl snorted.

"Total body relaxation technique, huh?" He asked.

Carol smiled and nodded her head at him.

"You're relaxed, aren't you?" She asked.

Daryl sucked in a breath and seemed to consider his response before he let it out.

"Yeah," he said. "I am."

"And you liked the massage," Carol said. "Admit it."

"I did," Daryl said.

"Enough that I could practice on you again?" Carol asked.

"Hell," Daryl mumbled. "I guess that shit could be arranged. Whatever's good for your career and all."

"Completely selfless," Carol said.

"Always," Daryl responded. "But—I think you got it. I mean—I think you could do it. Be a massage person and all that."

"You do?" Carol asked.

"You made me like it," Daryl said. "And—I was pretty damn determined not to like it when I come in here so...yeah. I'd say you got the right touch or whatever it is you gotta have to do it."

Carol felt her cheeks grow warm with a little bit of pride at Daryl's praise. She leaned to offer Daryl a kiss and he winced at her before he somewhat turned his head to the side. She smacked his chest in response.

"It's yours," Carol said. "Don't be such an asshole."

"You don't like it neither," Daryl said, but he smirked at her and leaned up to take the kiss from her that he'd refused.

"You really think I could do this? Like really do it for a living?" Carol asked.

Daryl hummed in the affirmative.

"Just one thing though," Daryl said. Carol hummed at him in question. "That last part? That last relaxation technique. I don't think you oughta take that shit to work."

Carol laughed.

"No worries," she assured him. "That's just for my one _very_ special client."


End file.
